


green silk dress

by havisham



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Post-Canon, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Marta and Benoit Blanc team up once again -- to go undercover as a couple and solve a murder.
Relationships: Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera
Comments: 47
Kudos: 409
Collections: Writing Rainbow Green





	green silk dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cricket_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricket_aria/gifts).



Marta had not truly expected to see Benoit Blanc again after the trial of Ransom Drysdale, but one morning, two years after Harlan Thrombley had breathed his last, she looked up from her Sunday _New York Times_ crossword puzzle and saw Blanc on her porch, with a dry cleaning bag over his shoulder. 

“My dearest Marta,” he said, with a voice like smoked honey. “I have come to ask for your services as my Watson once again, though I know it is an imprudent request.” 

She gave up on the puzzle and took another sip of coffee from her mug. It had only really been fun when she had Harlan to work out the clues with her -- and they reasoned that it wasn’t cheating, since both of them would take turns writing down the answers. 

“Do you want some coffee? A slice of cake?” Marta asked, gesturing to a pair of wicker chairs in front of her. 

“Oh no,” Blanc said. He carefully set his dry cleaning bag on a chair beside him. Marta could see a hem of bright green silk sticking out of it. She frowned. Chartreuse really wasn’t Blanc’s color. “I’ve already partaken in my morning meal. And as for your coffee…” 

“Yes?” Marta said, raising her eyebrows. 

“... It is too delightful a resource to waste on me, today of all days.” 

It was August and the heat pervaded everything with a sullen, muggy air to it. Marta was not unsympathetic to Blanc’s point, but she’d gotten in the habit of drinking a cup of hot coffee every day, no matter the temperature.

He glanced over the puzzle. “Hm. ‘The accuser of our brethren,’ per Revelation. How many letters?”

“Five,” said Marta. 

“It’s S-A-T-A-N.” 

Marta rolled her eyes at the transparent delight in Blanc’s eyes when the answer fit. 

“What’s this case about?” Marta said briskly. Her mother, now that her immigration status had been sorted, was on vacation in Florida at her brother’s house, and Alicia was away in college. Strictly speaking, Marta was working on her business purposal to turn Harlan’s house into a writer’s retreat, but -- 

“It’s about murder,” Blanc said. “And a stolen diamond. A gala, tonight.” 

“That’s a lot of things. What about the dress?” 

Blanc smiled. “It is for you, Marta. If you wish to help me.” 

*

The dress fit perfectly, give or two inches off the hem. Blanc proved adept at tailoring and as he was doing so, he filled her in on the details of the case -- of Maxwell Lound, who had been found mysteriously murdered this afternoon, the diamond on his lapel pin (estimated value of $60,000) stolen. 

“A $60,000 lapel pin?” Marta said doubtfully. 

“Yes, some people are careless with their millions. But here’s the rub -- it is not known that Maxwell Lound is dead. He is expected to give the keynote address tonight at the Annual Apostrophe Abuse Prevention Gala, along with his wife, Natalie -- who is my client.” 

“How do you know Natalie wasn’t the one who killed him?” 

“If she did,” Blanc said, biting off the thread, “hiring me would seem like a waste of money. But people have done more foolish things.”

“So we’re going undercover as Maxwell and Natalie?” 

Blanc showed her a picture of the Lounds on his phone. The resemblance was -- Marta shook her head. “I don’t think you’d look good as a brunet, Blanc.” 

“Whereas I think you can carry off blonde hair with aplomb,” said Blanc grandly. Marta flashed him a smile. 

*

Since Harlan’s death and her sudden inheritance, Marta had gotten a lot of invitations for parties and galas like this. She mostly didn’t go, although sometimes she forwarded them to Meg -- and on to Joni, probably. But this was different. Tonight she wasn’t Marta Cabrera, whose friendship and attention people now strived so hard for -- right now, she was a stranger. 

The dress was chartreuse silk with a halter top, with a dramatic backless detail -- nothing that Marta would wear in real life. This was definitely pretend. It was all right. 

Blanc looked very -- plausible in a black tuxedo, with his hair slicked back and darkened. He’d even switched his usually glasses for a pair of contacts. Marta laughed aloud when she saw him. 

“My God, Blanc! You know, you could be a spy with your skills of disguise,” said Marta. She wasn’t really kidding. The taxi stopped in front of the hotel where the gala was taking place and they got out. Blanc gave her a grave bow and then offered her his arm. She took it. 

“I feel like a spy too,” Marta confessed. 

“Well, I’ll be your arm candy tonight,” Blanc said with a wink as they walked down the red carpet, into the party. 

*

Maxwell Lound was a notorious recluse and so his keynote address -- about apostrophe abuse, a subject he felt very strongly about -- was an event of some note. While Blanc took the stage to talk extemporaneously about apostrophes, Marta scanned the crowd for people who had reasons to be surprised that Maxwell had made it to the gala after all. 

It was strange to hear Blanc speak in Maxwell’s clipped New England accent. It didn’t seem right, coming out of Blanc’s mouth like that. 

Finally, Marta spotted him -- a man who had come into the room and stopped dead at the sight of a corpse giving a speech. Marta gave the signal and Blanc interrupted himself. The entire ballroom erupted into chaos after that. 

*

“In the end, it was just his assistant,” Marta said, sipping loudly on her strawberry milkshake. It was long after midnight and they had gone to 24 hour cafe after the police had finally gotten done with them. “Are a lot of your cases like this?” 

“You mean vaguely disappointing? Yes,” Blanc said. His dress shirt was still splattered with ink and blood (not his) and somewhere in the scuffle, his hair had gone awry, while his glasses had made a reappearance. Marta sighed and leaned back. She was glad to have gotten rid of her wig, although Blanc’s jacket was vaguely tickling at her back. 

“Most murderers don’t have the same imagination and verve as Harlan Thrombley would have had us believe.” 

Marta smiled at that -- Harlan’s death was still a wound on her memory, but it felt good to talk to someone who had kind remembrances about him -- not just as a fan, but as a friend. 

“I think he would’ve liked it -- the disguises and shenanigans. But …” 

“The denouement came too early.” 

“Exactly,” Marta said. “Well, it was fun to dance a little. And then that weird couple came up to us … What did they want, exactly?” 

Blanc flashed her those big blue eyes, pretending to be so innocent. “I can’t imagine what they were angling for, dear Marta, but you rebuffed them quite soundly.” 

“Of course I did,” Marta said. “If I’m supposed to be your fake wife, I’m not going to share you with anyone. What about you?” 

“No,” Blanc said earnestly. “I would be appallingly greedy.” 

“Okay. Well, if you need another fake date, you can call me,” Marta said, looking down. She took another sip of her milkshake to avoid his eyes. He stomach didn’t grumble or anything -- it was the truth. 

*

They took leave of each other in the morning, promising to call each other soon. Marta still had her business proposal to work on, Blanc had other cases. Neither of them mentioned the brief kiss they had shared just before Maxwell Lound’s assistant had tried to kill him for the second time. 

It had been weird -- it was always weird to kiss a friend -- but, Marta thought that wasn’t _bad_ , and she wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Especially if next time, they could be themselves and take their time. 

Yes, that would be nice. 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe [this](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/brandon-maxwell-backless-silk-halter-gown-prod224060015?childItemId=NMB53XC_) is a the dress Marta wears?


End file.
